


Just One Night

by peterpan_in_neverland



Category: Hamilton - Miranda (Broadway Cast) RPF
Genre: F/M, I love this fic, One Night Stands, hahaha
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-09
Updated: 2018-10-09
Packaged: 2019-07-28 20:11:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,733
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16249001
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peterpan_in_neverland/pseuds/peterpan_in_neverland
Summary: A one night stand with a Broadway star, a mischievous roommate (and a lost sock) leads to having more than you could ever bargain for.





	1. Just One Night- Part One

**Author's Note:**

  * For [secretschuylersister](https://archiveofourown.org/users/secretschuylersister/gifts).



> This took forever. Hope you enjoy!

You left early the next morning, leaving a note (and a sock you couldn’t find  _ anywhere _ ) and that was that. 

****

Right? 

****

You didn’t know his last name, his number, or his address— he was staying in a hotel, apparently, and your only guess was tourist. All you had from him were poorly-covered hickeys on your neck, and a three-lettered name that seemed common enough (he knew your name too, and there were enough Y/N’s in the world. Any google search would more than likely yield a big-name celebrity). You would never see him again. 

****

_ Right _ ?

 

\----

****

Your made it back to your apartment and poured a bowl of cereal right when Rhiannon, your outgoing and adventurous, roommate, walked in. 

****

“You didn’t come home last night,” she pointed out, her hair a mess of pink curls clumsily piled into a bun. “I assume the guy was cute.” 

****

“You can’t just assume there was a guy,” You said, and knew your tone would give you away. 

****

Rhiannon gave you a look, and reached over, pulling your collar down. She looked at the hickeys, raised her eyebrows, and released your collar. “I assume the guy was cute,” she repeated. 

****

“Shut up,” You said in reply, and Rhiannon clicked her tongue. 

****

“If you won’t talk, then I will,” she said, and sat down on the kitchen counter. “There’s a party at the theatre after the show tonight and you’re coming.” 

****

“To a Broadway function?” You said, and raised your eyebrows. 

****

“Yes. To a Broadway function,” Rhiannon said, and you shook your head. “You are absolutely coming Y/N. This is a party to celebrate me being hired and I have no other friends in this city to bring— also you’re one of my top five favourite human beings.” 

****

“Rhiannon—” 

****

“You are coming, even if I have to chloroform you and shove you in the trunk,” she said. 

****

“Fine. And get off the counter,” You said—people sitting on the counter was one of your biggest pet peeves— and Rhiannon rolled her eyes. 

****

“I will not. This apartment is a democracy and I live here too!” 

****

—— 

****

You hung out in the dressing room of one of the cast members while the show was playing. You had little to  _ no  _ idea what the show was, and you didn’t exactly have tickets. But, from what you heard from the dressing room, it was good. You was really throwing your support in for Eliza. 

****

Rhiannon came and stayed with you for a bit after the show—apparently, orchestra members didn’t stage door— and you both vacated the dressing room so that the person that occupied it could change. 

****

“The show sounded really good,” you said, after you had been allowed back in once the owner of the dressing room (a tall guy with an infectious smile and a mop of tightly curled hair) had changed. “I assume you were the genius behind the trumpet that I heard?” 

****

“I was indeed— though I am far from genius,” Rhiannon said, hopping onto the makeup counter and taking a sip of the water she had taken from the mini fridge. “More like ‘mediocre girl that tries really hard.’” 

****

“I’d still say genius,” you replied. 

****

“You never did tell me about your night last night,” Rhiannon said slyly, a smirk on her face, and you groaned, rolling your eyes. 

****

“You are the absolute  _ worst _ ,” you said, and Rhiannon smiled girlishly, holding her fingers flat against the underneath of her chin. 

****

“That’s me,” she said sweetly, and dropped her hand. “Spiiiiillllllll it.” 

****

“It was enjoyable but will not be happening again,” you said, and Rhiannon gasped in offense. 

****

“And why not?” She asked, crossing her legs at the ankles and swinging them. 

****

“I don’t have his last name or number, he doesn’t have mine,” you said, and Rhiannon gave you a look somewhere in between _‘why would you do that’_ and _‘mysterious, sounds fantastic’._

****

“Mysterious, which I love,” Rhiannon said. “But—  _ whyyyy _ ?” She asked, and you laughed. 

****

“Never came up,” you said, and Rhiannon narrowed her eyes at you, her eyebrows raised. 

****

“You wanna see this guy again and it’s driving you crazy that you can’t,” Rhiannon said. 

****

“It  _ really  _ is,” you admitted. 

****

“ _ Ha _ !”Rhiannon said. “Knew it.” 

****

“He was staying in a hotel room so it wasn’t likely that he’ll be in the city long,” you said, and Rhiannon stuck out her lower lip. 

****

“I’m sorry Y/N,” she said, and fixed her hat when it fell onto her forehead. “That really sucks.” 

****

“Yeah, kinda,” you said, and shrugged. “I’ll get over it in a few days. Like it never happened.” 

****

Rhiannon gave you a side-eye. “Now we both know that isn’t true.” 

****

You were opening your mouth to reply when the door opened. Curly guy reappeared. “We’re done with everything so y’all can come out— everyone’s waiting for you onstage,” he said, and Rhiannon nodded. “Get the hell off my counter, Rhiannon Jane. What’s wrong with you?” 

****

Rhiannon stuck her tongue out at him. “I provide your music. You provide the counters to sit on.” 

****

“Miranda is worse about counter-sitting than  _ I  _ am, and he provides your  _ job _ ,” Curly Guy said. Rhiannon groaned, and got down from the counter as slow as she possibly could. “You are infuriating, you know that?” 

****

“But you absolutely love my infuriating self,” she replied, and Curly Guy rolled his eyes. “I am the baby of this theatre and all of you are wrapped around my finger— admit it.” 

****

Curly Guy put his palms up. “I admit  _ nothing _ .” 

****

“Enraging,” Rhiannon said, and Curly Guy laughed.

****

“We better go before people think that tonight isn’t the night,” Curly Guy said, then seemed to notice you sitting on the couch. “Oh, hey, sorry.” He stuck his hand out. “I’m Daveed.” 

****

“Y/N,” you stood up and shook his hand, moving next to Rhiannon after letting go. 

****

“Lead the way?” Rhiannon asked, and Daveed nodded, ducking out of the dressing room with you and Rhiannon following behind him. 

****

The cast members were milling about the stage, talking a bit and laughing. You suddenly felt completely outside from everything happening here, but you knew Rhiannon, and she had enough personality for all the people in the room. 

****

“Got our Rhiannon,” Daveed yelled, and she laughed at him. “She brought her cute friend, too.” 

****

You turned red, and Rhiannon made a mocking face at you. You made an angry face back at her.

****

“Pretty sure she has a name, Diggs,” a pretty girl with long dark hair said, and Daveed smiled. 

****

“She does indeed,” Rhiannon said. “Her name is Y/N— she knows little to nothing about Broadway and musicals and I’m slowly trying to fix that— she is in my top ten favourite humans, and is the reason I don’t eat takeout seven nights a week.” 

****

“Okay, I like her,” Daveed said. 

****

“So I’ll introduce everyone really quick—,” Rhiannon pointed out people. The girl with the long hair became Pippa— the three girls standing around her became Renée, Jasmine, and Emmy. A muscular guy with the biggest smile became Oak, a heavily freckled guy next to him became Anthony and— 

****

_ Holy shit _ . 

****

No way in hell was that actually— 

****

“That’s Lin— he plays our Alexander and is the supplier of my job,” Rhiannon said, and looked at  you. She made a mental note of your odd staring at Lin, and moved on to the other cast members. 

****

“So that’s everyone,” Rhiannon said, and shrugged. “Feel free to disperse and resume your earlier conversations.” The cast did as they were told, and Rhiannon whirled on you. 

****

“So they all—,” you started, but you were predictably interrupted. 

****

“Lin was one-night stand guy, wasn’t he?” Rhiannon asked, and you raised your eyebrows. 

****

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you said, and Rhiannon made a face at you and held up a finger sassily. 

****

“You know exactly what I’m talking about Y/N, do not pull your innocent act on me,” Rhiannon said, and you groaned. 

****

“Fine, yes, he’s one-night stand guy,” you said, and Rhiannon smirked. 

****

“I knew it as soon as I saw your face— something tells me he’s feeling something too,” Rhiannon said, and tilted her head vaguely in Lin’s direction. 

****

He was staring at you. 

****

Not a creepy stare. Just… looking. Like he was trying to decipher a sentence in a language he barely knows. 

****

You looked away, but something told you that he noticed you looking back. You tucked your hair behind your ear and bit your lip. 

****

“You are doing that thing that people do,” Rhiannon said, and you gave her a look. 

****

“The what?” 

****

“That thing where people— usually female— looks away from the cute guy and tucks her behind her ear and either bites her lip or smiles,” Rhiannon said, and you raised your eyebrows. “And you’re doing it.” 

****

“I am not doing anything,” you said, and Rhiannon raised an eyebrow in return. 

****

“You absolutely are— you already admitted to wanting to see him again and here you are, tucking hair and biting lip, and doing NOTHING to continue seeing him,” she said. 

****

“Who says I want to continue seeing him?” You said, Rhiannon opened her mouth in a silent yell. 

****

“Must we really circle back to this conversation?” She asked, and you nodded. 

****

“Yes, we must,” you said. “‘No strings attached’ means no strings attached. There are no strings and I have no feelings.” 

****

“But I think you’re wrong,” Rhiannon said in reply. 

****

“And I think—”

****

“I think Lin’s coming over here,” Rhiannon said. “Like, at this very moment, no stopping or running away now,” she whispered quickly, and grabbed your arm and turned you around when you attempted to make your way past her. “Liiiiiiin, heeeyyyyyyyyyyy.” 

****

“Rhiannon,” he nodded at her. “You enjoying it?” 

****

“Absolutely I’m loving it but hey have you met my dear friend Y/N?” She said in one quick exhale, and moved up three places on your mental list of people to murder. 

****

“Undeniably,” Lin said. “Can I borrow her for a second?”  

****

“Absolutely,” Rhiannon said, and released your arm with a smile. She walked by Lin, and just when you thought he’d get away without her whispering a threat, she grabbed the sleeve of his jacket. “Hurt her and you die.” She released his sleeve, and you buried your face in your palms. 

****

“Don’t worry about it,” he said. “I’ve had enough time to get used to Rhiannon… should’ve known what I was getting into once I hired her.” 

****

“Rhiannon would probably say that you should’ve researched how long one lives before you got one,” you said, smiled, and looked at the ground. You had the sudden— but ridiculous— urge to ask him if he had found your sock. 

****

“Sounds extremely similar to a Rhiannon Remark,” Lin said. 

****

“Is that what you theatre people call it whenever she says something witty?” You asked, and Lin chuckled. 

****

“No, but we should,” he admitted. “Somehow a good portion of our Richard Rodgers circles around the instrumental menace.” You were quiet for a while, and Lin broke it once you started to tap your foot. 

****

“We aren’t going to talk about it, are we?” He asked, and you gave him a look, your eyebrows knitting together. 

****

“Do you  _ want  _ to talk about it?” You asked, and he gave you a look somewhere between  _ god, please, yes _ and  _ anything but that _ .

****

“No,” he finally said. “Not here and not now and not in front of my cast mates and the orchestra. But we  _ will  _ talk about it,” he said, and you must have looked upset, because he added, “only if you’re okay with that.” 

****

“Oh, uh,” you stuttered, caught a bit off guard. “Yeah, I do want to. To talk about it.” 

****

“Good,” he said, and nodded slowly. He clapped his hands together, then rubbed his palms against his jeans. “Can I have your number?” 

****

“Oh, yeah.” You gave it to him, and he programmed it into his phone. You put his in your contacts as well, and stared at his name until Rhiannon’s voice pulled you back into the world. 

****

“Sorry, I didn’t catch what you said,” you replied, and Rhiannon narrowed her eyes at you. But the smile on her face said she understood.

****

“Pippa and Jasmine wanna meet you, and I’m assuming you want to meet them, so you are,” Rhiannon said, grabbed your hand, and pulled you in the direction of Pippa and Jasmine. 

****

——

****

You and Rhiannon went home around 11:30. Pippa and Renée had already left— Pippa citing exhaustion and Renée wanting to see her kids— and Rhiannon called everything off after Daveed almost fell asleep on his feet (the party wasn’t boring; they were exhausted from the performances and Daveed his lack of sleep in general). 

****

“What’d you and Lin talk about?” Rhiannon asked, hanging her coat on a peg by the door and taking her shoes off. 

****

“Not last night, if that’s what you’re wondering about,” you answered, and Rhiannon groaned. 

****

“I reeeeeeeally wanted to have something gossip-y to talk about,” Rhiannon said.

****

“I could tell you what your boss is like in bed,” you said, sass lacing her tone. 

****

“But you won’t,” Rhiannon said. “... right?” Then she stopped, putting a finger to her chin. “On the other hand, I could use it as blackmail to be allowed counter-sitting privileges.” 

****

“I never would,” you said. “ _ Especially  _ not in the event it could earn you counter sitting privileges.” 

****

“Rude,” Rhiannon said. She walked into the kitchen, and sat down on the counters, as if to spite you. “You should at least text him.” 

****

“What makes you think I got his number?” You said. 

****

“Would you have left the theatre without it?” Rhiannon asked, and you gave her a look. Rhiannon gave you one in return. “Would you? Would you really?” 

****

You gave. “Yeah, I wouldn’t have left without getting his number.” 

****

“Called it,” Rhiannon said. “Now text him.” 

****

“Fine,” You pulled out your phone, and clicked on his contact. 

****

_ Hey, did you happen to find a sock I left at your place last night? I meant to ask you at the theatre then forgot. _

****

“Sent,” You said, and Rhiannon smiled. 

****

“What’d you say?” 

****

“Nothing of your concern,” you replied.

****

“That’s infuriating of you,” Rhiannon said back. “I’m going to my room to stew.” She left the living room, disappearing down the hall. A piano playing indicated that Rhiannon was in her room, and  you snorted. Your phone dinged, and you looked down at the notification. 

****

_ I haven’t, but I’ll definitely look once I’m home. And if you continue to casually mention last night, then I might actually spontaneously combust. _

****

You blinked hard. Your phone dinged again. 

****

_ I’m apologizing for the last sentence. I’m a lil bit drunk. _

****

You turned your phone off, and resisted the urge to pull your hair out. 

****

When did your life get so complicated?


	2. Just One Night- Part Two

You wanted to tell Rhiannon about the message, but you were also fearing the repercussions. So you kept it to yourself, refusing to click onto your messages with Lin for three days. 

 

That ended when he texted you, effectively forcing you to look at them. The newest one read:

 

_ Hey, do you wanna talk about it now? I’m going a little out of my mind over here.  _

 

You turned your phone over and over in your hand. “Rhiannon, do we have anything happening tonight?” 

 

She was quiet for just a second. “No, I have the shows, though,” she shouted back. “Why?” 

 

“No reason,” you said, then before you could stop herself. “Is Lin on tonight?” 

 

Rhiannon made a snorting noise in the back of her throat. “No. He doesn’t go on for the Sunday shows.” You thought you could get away with just the answer. You was wrong. 

 

“You planning a fun night?” Rhiannon said, and you could envision her wiggling her eyebrows and smirking. “You gonna lose another sock?” 

 

“Oh, shuddup,” you said back. “I won’t be home until later,” you said. “And no, I will not be getting laid.” 

 

“Whatever you say,” Rhiannon said, and you groaned, rolled your eyes, and left. 

 

—— 

 

“I’m freaking out,” you said. You had called Rhiannon prior to walking into Lin’s hotel… and still you had yet to walk in. 

 

“Y/N,” Rhiannon said, and you had a decent idea of what kind of face she was making. “It. Will. Be. Fine.” 

 

“But. What. If. It’s.  _ Not _ .”  

 

“It will be!” Rhiannon said. “Look, nothing could get any worse once you go in there— chances are, it’ll actually be better. You could have an even amount of socks again!” 

 

“Ugh, I hate that you’re being wise when I’m stressed.” 

 

“Being wise when you’re in less than ideal moods is my speciality,” Rhiannon said. “I gotta go— Lac needs me.” 

 

“Bye-bye,” you said. “I’ll let you know how it goes later.” 

 

“Was it even up for debate?” Rhiannon said. “Alright, talk to ya later.” She hung up, and you put your phone away. 

 

You paced outside his hotel, mulling over the pros and cons of going in or not going in. Overall, the pros (being tipped by the undeniable want to find your sock) outweighed the cons, and you walked in. 

 

The hallways were exactly the way they had been when she had left, and the elevator— it was the  _ elevator _ . During your last trip up to the ninth floor in this elevator, you had not been alone, and it had gone  _ much _ quicker than this. And much less boringly. 

 

You squeezed your eyes shut in an attempt to not think about the elevator ride with Lin. Instead of helping, it only summoned up a visual. You opened your eyes again. 

 

Finally— blessedly— the doors opened, and you practically jumped out of the elevator. Lin’s room was a short walk from the elevator and you found it easily enough. 

 

You knocked, and heard the deadbolt move after just a second. Lin appeared in the doorframe and even after procrastinating and a memory-rehashing elevator ride, you was  _ not  _ prepared to see him. Especially not when he was so evidently fresh out of the shower— wet hair, sweatpants,  _ no goddamn shirt _ .

 

This was the end of you. 

 

“Y/N— sorry, I just got out of the shower and I thought I had a few more minutes,” he said, and moved out of the way so you could come in. You involuntarily stalled for just too long a time before walking in. “Thanks, for being okay with talking.” 

 

“It’s not me being okay with it. It’s me actually  _ wanting  _ to talk about it,” you said, scanning the room for a place to sit down. 

 

“You can sit wherever,” Lin said, and you nodded. 

 

The bed was absolutely out of the question, you weren’t going to sit on the desk or on the counter, so you chose a very hotel-looking chair in the corner and sat down, picking at your sweater more to occupy yourself than anything. You spared a glance at Lin— he looked horribly awkward and was running his palms up and down his thighs nervously. He was still very shirtless.

 

“You okay?” You asked, and he looked at you. 

 

“Yeah,” he shook his head in the same way people do when they want to shake their hair out of their eyes. “I’m just all over the place.” He sat down in the chair at the desk, and you thought that if he didn’t put a shirt on, you would actually die. 

 

“Why’re you staying in a hotel if you live in the city?” You asked, to fill the silence. 

 

“Oh,” he started, like he wasn’t expecting you to ask that. “I’m in between moving. I thought I had found a place and then the owner rented out to someone else, and I had already moved out of my old place, so…” he shrugged, and that was that. 

 

“That sucks,” you said, and you both sank into silence again. You tapped your foot against the ground, counting to four over and over again with each tap, like you had observed Rhiannon do before. The silence in the room was  _ deafening.  _

 

Finally, Lin broke it. “I had you come over to talk, but here we are-- not talking,” he said with a chuckle, and you almost laughed along. 

 

“Then let’s talk,” you said.

 

Lin licked his lip, biting the bottom one, before clapping his hands together. “Okay… where do we go from here?” Your response was a startled blink. He continued on. “I mean, unless I fire Rhiannon--” 

 

“I would kill you,” you interjected, and he looked startled at your bluntness. “Just, for the record.” 

 

“Which I’m not  _ planning on doing anytime soon _ ,” he said, and you nodded in approval. “Then I don’t see being able to walk out of your life very easily. Rhiannon is a very out-there person, and I get the idea that she knows about everything,” he paused, looked at you in a certain way that made you want laugh, and then he smiled. “So I doubt she’d just let it go.”

 

“‘Letting it go’ is not within Rhiannon’s vocabulary,” you said, and Lin nodded. 

 

“Then what do we do now?” 

 

It was a really good question. What  _ would  _ they do now? You had envisioned herself being able to walk out of his life as easily as you had walked out of his hotel. But, clearly, the universe (and Rhiannon) disagreed.

 

“What do you want to do from here?” You asked, and he looked wholly caught off guard, as if he wasn’t expecting you to take his feelings into consideration.  

 

“I’d be more than happy to be able to be your friend,” he finally said, and you felt a weird mixed-up version of excited and disappointed. 

 

Instead of voicing it, or trying to explain why (though, you doubted you could. You didn't even understand why yourself), you said, “I’d like that.”

 

“Good,” he said.

 

“Good,” you agreed, and rubbed your palms together. She You stopped tapping her foot the entire time you had been talking. “Is there anything else?” 

 

Lin thought for a second. “No, not that I can think of,” he said. “I don’t have anything to do tonight, so do you wanna catch a movie or something?” 

 

“Sure!” You said, and got up. “But, my one requirement is that you put a shirt on.”  _ Before I actually die on the spot. _

 

“Oh, yeah, sorry,” he said, and rifled through a duffle bag. He grabbed a plain t-shirt, and pulled it on over his head. “Let’s go.” 

 

\-----

 

You ended up seeing two movies and getting dinner before you headed home. Once you got home, you cleaned a little bit and watched a few Gilmore Girls reruns before Rhiannon came home. 

 

“I have to admit,” Rhiannon said, hanging her jacket on a peg by the door. “I really didn’t believe you when you said you weren’t getting laid.” 

 

You threw one of the pillows that were sitting on the couch at her. “Rude of you,” you said. “Lin and I are friends-- that's  _ it _ .” 

 

“Ohhhhhh but it won’t be  _ it _ for so long,” Rhiannon said. She picked up the pillow and put it back where it belongs. “The sexual tension is tangible. I could reach out and poke the sexual tension.” Rhiannon walked into the kitchen, grabbing her tea from the fridge.

 

“First of all, that sounds disgusting,” you said, getting up and following Rhiannon. “Second of all, there’s no sexual tension-- and even if there was, it wouldn’t be tangible. That's-- that's not how that works.” 

 

“It absolutely is how this works,” Rhiannon said, sitting on one of the counters. “The theatre people have a running bet on how long it’ll take for you and Lin to get together-- some of the bets are  _ super  _ specific.”

 

“Seriously?” You wished you could melt through the floor and disappear for forever. “I’m afraid to ask.” 

 

“You don’t have to, I’m gonna tell you anyway,” Rhiannon said. “So, Pippa bet that you’d hookup in his dressing room by March. Daveed says it’ll take two weeks and Lin will confess his love for you poetically and then you’ll make out. Jasmines is the most detailed. She says that Lin’ll drunk sext you and then-- once he’s sober again-- he’ll come over to our place and make out with you and--” 

 

“THAT'S ENOUGH,” you yelled, and Rhiannon smirked, taking a sip of her tea. 

 

“My bet is that you end up backstage for whatever reason and then some sort of earth-shaking conversation happens and you kiss, then everything mounts from there,” Rhiannon said. “I think you’ll get together within three weeks. That’s the threshold.” 

 

“I cannot believe you’re betting on my love life,” you said, then stopped. “No, scratch that— I  _ can  _ believe you’re betting on it, just not that it’s that specific.” 

 

“Really? I’d expect it of me if I were you,” Rhiannon said, and hopped down from the counter. “I’m going to go to bed.” 

 

“It’s only eleven,” you said, a little surprised. 

 

“I’m just tired,” Rhiannon said. “I played the show, and then Lac had me running all over for forever— also someone that saw the show wanted to meet me.” She shrugged. “It was super confusing but super cool. That never happens.” 

 

“Okay,” you said. “Sleep good.” 

 

“I will.” Rhiannon nodded, and walked down the hall, turning the corner into her room. 

 

You finished the episode of Gilmore Girls you were watching, and tidied up the living room. You sent a quick good night text to Lin, took a shower, and crashed. 

 

——

 

Lin was certain he had never been more conflicted before. 

 

He had never really done the stereotypical dinner-and-a-movie thing when it  _ wasn’t _ a date. 

 

Truth be told, he wasn’t totally sure he just wanted to be her friend. He was so confused— his thoughts about you were a muddled tangle of things he couldn’t even put a name to. It was too much. 

 

He shook himself out of his mind. He had things slightly more important than you and your smile to focus on. 

 

“I missed what you said, Diggs,” Lin said, and Daveed gave him a look. “I’m sorry. I didn’t get a lot of sleep last night.” 

 

“You never get a lot of sleep,” Daveed said. “You barely get  _ any _ . What was really going on?” 

 

“Nothing,” Lin said. 

 

“I know you’re lying,” Daveed said. “And trust me— even in the event that you  _ don’t  _ want me to find out the truth— I will find out the truth. So it’s probably better to just tell me out right.” 

 

Lin sighed deeply, and leaned forward, elbows on his knees, his face in his hands. “I had a one-night stand and I thought I’d never see her again but turns out that not what’s happening.” He was talking to the ground. 

 

“Oh shit,” Daveed said. “And you’re feeling what type of way about this?” Lin made a noise that was half groan, half sigh, and Daveed seemed to understand it. “Talk to me more.” 

 

“She’s Rhiannon's best friend, and—,” 

 

“Wait,” Daveed jumper forward, leaning with his elbows on his knees. “The friend that we met the other night? You slightly before the rest of us?” 

 

“Yes,” Lin said. “And I like her but I’m conflicted about it because she’s seems okay with just being friends. And I’m okay with that too.” 

 

“She’s in your life,” Daveed says. “That’s where you want her.” 

 

“Yeah, I don't want to let her go,” he said. “Whatever, it’s just a tiny crush. I’ll be over it in a few days.” 

 

“Will you?” Daveed said, and Lin didn’t seem to hear him. “Will you  _ really _ ?”

 

“I’ve gotta go,” Lin said. “Chris needed me for something, so I’m gonna go help him out.” Lin got up and left, and Daveed pulled on one of his curls, twirling it around his index finger. 

 

“I think I’m gonna have a talk with Rhiannon,” Daveed said, and got up, walking through the theatre. Eventually, he ran into Lac. 

 

“Hey, Diggs, what’s up?” 

 

“Nothing really,” Daveed said. “Would you happen to know where our favorite curly-haired, trumpet-playing menace is?” 

 

——

 

_ Your back against a wall. _

 

_ Hands in your hair.  _

 

_ Lips on your mouth, cheek, neck, chest—  _

 

You jumped awake, taking in your surroundings. Living room. You were in your living room. You had fallen asleep on the couch, and that was a dream and— 

 

You were a  _ mess _ . 

 

This was  _ not  _ how you envisioned this going. It was supposed to be no strings attached, no last names, no phone numbers, no addresses. It was supposed to be simple. 

 

But nothing was simple and everything had strings. 

 

Your phone rang, and she dug it out of the blanket pile.  You answered it. 

 

“Hey, Lin, what’s up?” You asked, biting your lip. 

 

“Nothing really,” he said, and you heard the noise of the city in the background. “I was just wondering if you’d want to get coffee with me sometime?” He asked, and you considered it. 

 

“Yeah, I’d love to,” you said, smiling into the phone. “When are you thinking?” 

 

“Can you do tomorrow morning?” He asked, and you calculated the amount of time you had quickly. 

 

“Definitely,” you said, and ran a hand through your hair. “Meet me at my apartment?” 

 

“Will do,” he agreed. You told him a time, and then hung up. You fell backwards onto the couch,  your hands in your hair, smiling widely. You ignored the thoughts that you said were going against all the promises you made yourself. 

 

“Oh god, Y/N,” your whispered to yourself and the living room walls. “What are you getting yourself into?” 

 


	3. Just One Night- Part Three

Daveed finally found Rhiannon in the women’s ensemble dressing room, talking to Emmy and— predictably— sitting on the makeup counter.

 

“Yo, Rhiannon Jane, get off the counter,” he said, and she narrowed her eyes at him.

 

“This isn’t your dressing room. You have no jurisdiction.”

 

“Bullshit,” he said, but dropped the subject. “Can I talk to you?”

 

She looked concerned for a second, then she hopped down from the counter. “Yeah, let’s speak in my office.”

 

“Your office?” Daveed whispered, and she either ignored him or didn’t hear him, because she kept walking. Eventually, they had turned into the orchestra pit. Rhiannon sat down cross-legged on a piano bench.

 

“What’s up?”

 

“I think Lin is keeping something from me,” Daveed said. “And _Y/N_ is keeping something from you.”

 

Rhiannon made a face at him, and then made another face at the cello case in the corner, like it had done something to her. She pushed her fingers underneath of her glasses, rubbing her eyes and nearly knocking her glasses off of her face. Daveed was sure he was watching her cast some sort of spell. She pushed her glasses back into place, put her hands on her knees, and took a deep breath.

 

“Knew it,” she said, and Daveed cracked a smile. “She was acting weird and jumpy yesterday…” Rhiannon said, and Daveed could see her mentally mapping things out in her head.

 

“Okay, and?” He finally said, and she held up a finger to silence him.

 

“She has a date with Lin,” she said, and Daveed raised his eyebrows.

 

“What?” He said, but before he could get an answer, Rhiannon was up off of the piano bench and out of the orchestra pit. He got up, intending to chase after her, but she was nowhere to be seen.

 

Daveed put his hand behind his neck, weaving his fingers together. “Ohhhh goddddd what have I done?"

 

\----

 

“You have a date with Y/N,” Rhiannon said, and Lins fearful respect of her mounted.

 

“Umm…” Lin said. She wasn’t _wrong_ , but she wasn’t right either. A coffee date wasn’t a date-date unless they said it was. However, something told him that it would all be the same in Rhiannon’s eyes. “No?”

 

“Is that a question?” She asked, and Lin wished there was a way that he could disappear into the floor.

 

“No?”

 

“You cannot answers my questions with more questions!”

 

“I can’t?” Lin said in reply, mostly to piss her off. The look Rhiannon gave him in reply made him regret it.

 

“You wanna try that again and see how it goes?” She asked, and he shook his head.

 

“No.”

 

“Good. Answer my original question.”

 

“I don’t have a date with her,” he said. “But I also don’t-not have a date with her.” Rhiannon raised her eyebrows, and Lin but his lip. “It’s a coffee… meeting. Not really a date-date but it’s also not a not date.”

 

She narrowed her eyes at him, and he tensed up. Rhiannon took a step back. “Okay,” she said, and Lin did a double take.

 

“What?”

 

“Okay,” she repeated, and held her hands up. “I trust you on this.”

 

Lin looked at her, studying her posture for any sign of lying— apparently, she didn’t have a tell, or she wasn’t lying. He relaxed. “Thank you.”

 

“I will be asking Y/N for details literally as soon as I see her next,” she said, and Lin nodded. There was their Rhiannon.

 

\----

 

Lin picked you up the next morning at the agreed upon time, and you tried your hardest not to panic. How did you end up here? You were losing faith in the ‘no strings attached’ theology.

 

Lin did the opposite of what you were expecting once the made it out of your building— he grabbed onto your hand, intertwining your fingers with his, and walked down the sidewalk.

 

He pulled you through the door to a little coffee shop he had chosen, you ordered your coffees, and sat down at a table to wait for them.

 

“Have you found my sock yet?” You asked, unable to stop yourself.

 

“No! I don’t understand how we could lose it in such a tiny hotel room,” he said, and you smiled at him.

 

“That’s why I’m so desperate to find it,” you said. “That, and I _really_ want an even number of socks again.”

 

“Having an odd number must be the _worst_ ,” he said, and you nodded in agreeance, thanking the employee that handed you your coffees. “I’m always tempted to throw away a sock whenever I somehow come out with an even number.”

 

“Throwing away any article of clothing is heresy,” you said. “But I understand you. The only thing keeping me tethered to this sock is the hope that my other one is still out there.”

 

“I will not move out of that hotel room without your sock,” he promised (you _totally_ didn’t make him pinky swear or anything. You’re an adult, I mean… come on!).

 

You talked about work, Lin talked about theatre life, and you both talked about books until Lin changed the subject on a complete 180.

 

“Would you want to go on a date sometime?” Was the complete 180 question. You froze in your seat, and it must have discouraged Lin, because he recoiled. “Never mind, that was dumb of me to ask, pretend I didn’t.”

 

“I’ll think about it,” you said, and Lin stopped.

 

“Huh?”

 

“I’ll think about it,” you repeated. “You’re pretty much a new person to me. I’m not saying no, I’m not saying yes. I’m saying I’ll think about it.”

 

“But are prospects good?” Lin said. “Like, give me a percentage scale. A yes-to-no ratio.”

 

You thought for a second. “60:40. In favour of the yes side.” Lin’s face split into a beaming smile.

 

“Awesome,” he finally said.

 

Your phone alarm went off, and you looked at it. “Sorry, But I absolutely have to go to work now. I want to get paid.” You dropped a kiss on his cheek, waved goodbye, and walked out.

 

It wasn’t until you had walked in the building that you worked in that you truly realized you had kissed him.

 

\----

 

“Y/N!” Rhiannon shouted as soon as she walked in the door, and you knew she caught you.

 

“I’m in my room,” you said back, and heard Rhiannon’s footsteps coming down the hallway.

 

“You hid a coffee date from me,” Rhiannon said, and you smiled a little bit. “And something tells me you’re hiding a thing or two else.”

 

“Perhaps,” you said, and Rhiannon thinned her lips out in an effective scowl. “I’ll tell you if you stop making that face.”

 

“Fine, spill,” Rhiannon said, and her face smoothed out.

 

You showed her the text and told her about the coffee date, carefully avoiding any mention of the 60:40 date prospects. She smiled.

 

“Knew it!” She exclaimed. “Do you have a second date?”

 

“No,” you said. It wasn’t a lie.

 

Rhiannon stuck out her lower lip. “That sucks,” she said. “We need more relationship gossip.”

 

“First of all, never use the word ‘relationship’ about Lin and I again,” you said, and Rhiannon shook her head. “Second, if you leak this story to a magazine, I will kill you.”

 

“I’d _never_ leak it to a magazine, that’s just foolish,” Rhiannon said, and got up to leave your room. She stopped at the door frame, looking back at you, a clever smirk on her face. “I’d _sell_ it to a magazine.”

 

\----

 

You did some work around the house, tidying things and ordering pizza for dinner. Rhiannon appeared after she had paid the delivery guy.

 

“You’re coming to the theatre with me,” She said.

 

“I am?”

 

“Yes.” She took a piece of pizza. “Lac needs me to help him with something, and I am bringing you.”

 

“Why?” you asked.

 

“Because, it could take awhile, and I need a friend if there’s any waiting around,” Rhiannon said. You gave her a suspicious look, but nodded anyway.

 

“Alright,” you said. “I’ll go.”

 

\----

 

An hour later, you were let into the theatre by Lac. He gave a brief outline of what he needed help with to Rhiannon, and told you that you were welcome to hang out on stage or in any of the audience seats.

 

“Just don’t pull any ropes or touch any buttons or switches,” he said, and left you with the ominous warning. Rhiannon walked off behind him, flashing a thumbs up at you, and disappearing off the stage.

 

You sat down cross legged on the center of the stage, and looked around, taking in the sights of the theatre. Everything was so gorgeous; the set, the audience seats, even the carpeting.

 

You heard a door open, and then close. You also heard it come from the direction that Lac and Rhiannon left in.

 

You heard a voice behind you.

 

“Y/N?”

 

 _Oh, come on_.

 

\----

 

Rhiannon and Lac had collaborated on the plan earlier that day: Rhiannon would get Y/N to the theatre, Lac would get Lin there, and then they would bounce.

 

It was a genius plan, really.

 

Getting Y/N to the theatre proved to be easier than first thought— Lin was the difficult one.

 

He was busy writing, and Lac had to threaten him with ceasing to provide coffee everyday for the show in order to get him to come. It worked.

 

Lin walked in and then Lac and Rhiannon walked out.

 

That left Y/N and Lin, alone, on the stage and— oh, did I forget to mention? _Locked in._

 

_\----_

 

Lin was going to die. He was sure of it.

 

No way, no how, could someone look so beautiful when they were just _sitting_. Just SITTING. Sitting and looking around at the theatre, taking it all in.

 

 _He was going to die_.

 

He had summoned up his voice and said your name; it came out a question when he didn’t mean for it to be, and you looked up at him.

 

“Yeah?” You said back, raising your eyebrows and smiling.

 

“Uh… where’s Lac?” He asked, deciding to say something logical. “He threatened me and told me he needed me here for something.”

 

“I don’t think he’s here— I heard a door open and then close,” you said. “I think he got sick of waiting and then… wait, why would he leave if— _I’m going to kill her_.” You got up from the ground and walked past Lin. If he didn’t know any better, he would assume you were going to commit a murder.

 

He followed you, and watched as you grabbed the handle of the exit, trying to turn it. It didn’t move. You turned back around to Lin and stated the obvious. “We’re locked in.”

 

“Seems that way,” he said, and put together the pieces. “Rhiannon and Lac?”

 

You nodded. “Undeniably.”

 

“What do we do now?” Lin asked, and you ran your fingers through your hair.

 

“Die?” You answered, and Lin laughed, putting his hands to his knees.

 

“It’s an option,” he said back, after recovering from the laughing fit. “Better one, though: talking?”

 

“Sounds better to me."

 

\----

 

You walked out of backstage and opted to sit on the same spot you were earlier, facing each other, talking.

 

Nothing monumental; books, music, work and the weather. You had a quick, heated debate over if ketchup or barbecue sauce is better with French fries (“ketchup is the supreme; it counts as your vegetable!” “You are ridiculous, and tomatoes are fruits.”)

 

“Have you thought about everything at all?” Lin asked, and you raised an eyebrows by way of response. “I mean, how no strings attached went from about thirty-four strings and a thin rope.”

 

“Yeah, a little bit,” you answered, after a quick mental debate on whether you should undercompensate or overcompensate. Undercompensate won.

 

“I’ve thought about it a lot.”

 

“Really?”

 

“Yeah,” He answered. “Like what would happen if one of us decided to just, get up and walk away from all of it?” He stood up, and started pacing around nervously.

 

“Why would it matter?” You got up as well, looking him in the eye when he froze in place.

 

“Because, it would mean a lot,” he whispered, and something inexplicable about it bothered you; cut a chain that was keeping you from screaming.

 

“It doesn’t mean anything, Lin!” You shouted, and almost regretted it after seeing the look on his face.

 

“Bullshit,” he said back, running his hands through his hair in a thinking way. “ _Not meaning anything_ would have meant moving on. It would have meant leaving my hotel room and not caring when I popped back into your life. It would’ve meant no coffee date and no dinner-and-two-movies.” Lin was yelling now, too, and you were thanking god that the theatre was empty. You couldn’t believe that you had agreed to come here anyway— you could believe that Rhiannon had abandoned you with Lin, though. That seemed the most realistic out of everything that had happened here.

 

“That’s—”

 

He reached out suddenly, pulling your collar down, exposing the mostly-faded hickeys. “It would mean not thinking about these every time you came into a room. It would mean not hyperfocusing on anything that wasn’t your lips because if I didn’t it would be _over_.” You were frozen, locked to the spot. Lins fingers were still hooked on the collar of your shirt. “I’ve done a lot of staring at your eyes,” he whispered, and betrayed his own rules by letting his gaze fall down to your lips. You weren’t quite sure how you hadn’t yet died on the spot.

 

“But I’ve also done a lot of thinking,” he whispered, his focus still on your lips, fingers still on your collar. “And thinking— especially in the dark or in the quiet or a place with both— just makes me think about that night.” His hand started to make its way up, the pads of his fingers tracing lightly on the skin on your neck, just enough to leave goosebumps. “And about what your hair felt like in my fingers, and how you smelled like flowers, and what kissing you was like—”

 

He ran his thumb over the outline of your lips, and that was the breaking point. You moved forward, pressing your mouth to Lins, and letting your fingers tangle up into his hair. He couldn’t seem to decide what to do with his hands— they went from your hair to your shoulders to your hips and then finally to your waist, and seemingly he decided that that was the spot they were going to stay.

 

Things escalated quickly— Lin had you pushed against a wall, lips on your neck (so much for the hickeys being mostly gone) and his fingers pressing into your hips through the thin material of the skirt you were wearing.

 

You broke off the kiss just enough to help him pull off his shirt, tracing your fingertips down his sides, and kissing down his neck, leaving a few marks as revenge.

 

“Y/N,” he whispered. “We cannot sleep together in the theatre.”

 

“Why not?” You whispered back, and could swear you heard him chuckle.

 

“Because, there’s a running bet going on how long it’ll take a cast member to hook up in the theatre, and I will _not_ lose,” he said, and you were suddenly reminded of the bet that Rhiannon had started on your… whatever this was… with Lin.

 

“Fair enough.” You reached down, grabbing his shirt and handing it back to him. “Take a cab to your hotel?”

 

\----

 

You made it back to your apartment the next morning, and opened the door to see the back of an office chair facing you.

 

The chair turned around. Rhiannon sat in it calmly— she looked like a CEO— and with a mischievous smirk on her face.

 

“I’ve been expecting you,” she said, in her best Old Business Woman voice, and then burst into laughter.

 

“You are ridiculous,” you said, made your way past the chair and Rhiannon, and then sat down on the couch in the living room.

 

“I’m assuming you figured out that there was a key on top of the doorframe,” Rhiannon said, and you nodded.

 

“Took twenty minutes. Hated all of it,” you said, and Rhiannon laughed.

 

“And I’m assuming the things leading up to that,” Rhinnaon said. She took another look at you— messy hair, same clothes as yesterday. “And everything after were things you enjoyed.”

 

“None of your business,” you replied.

 

“Ahhhhh But It issssss,” she said, and you raised an eyebrow at her words. “I locked you in that theatre. I _ran_ all the way around it. _Ran_.”

 

“Lac helped,” you said back, by way of defense, and Rhiannon rolled her eyes and groaned.

 

“Lac is not as interested in this as I am,” she said. “Pleeeeeeeeease spill it.”

 

“No.”

 

“Then at _least_ tell him you’ll go on a date or something,” she said, then held up a finger to shush you when you tried to respond. “And give me proof.”

 

You were quiet for a second. “Okay.”

 

Rhiannon helped you write a text, hit send _for_ you, and waited anxiously around the apartment until Lin finally texted you back.

 

Rhiannon practically jumped you, and you had to fend her off with one hand, holding your phone in the other.

 

“What did he say whatdhesayyyyyyyyy what. Did. He. Saaaaaaaaayyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy.” It wasn’t a question, more a demand phrased in semi-polite desperation.

“He said he’ll think about it,” you said.

 

“I’ll kill him,” Rhiannon said, and you grabbed on her arm to keep her from storming out of the apartment.

 

“Do _not_ ,” you said. “I told him the same thing when he asked me on a date the other day. He has a fair right to tell me that he’ll think about it.”

 

She grumbled for a second. “Fine,” she finally relented, pulled her arm from your grip, and disappeared into her room.

 

\----

 

Lin was sure he was never more scared of anyone than he was of Rhiannon.

 

She was the very picture of not threatening if you explained her in concept— thick curls that brushed her shoulders, clear-rimmed glasses, paint stained fingers, chipping nail polish, a shirt with the Kikkoman soy sauce label, and ragged Converse (the laces, for some unknown reason, were wrapped around the soles of her shoes, the ends of them tied into a knot and tucked in the inside of them).

 

But, if you described her with the facial expression she currently was wearing— her entire face even with her eyes slightly narrowed, her nose crinkled just a little bit.

 

He was going to be six feet deep by the time she was done with him.

 

““I’ll think about it,”” she quoted, a hand on her hip in a pure-sass way. “Seriously?”

 

Lin scrubbed his hands along his face. Who even let her in his dressing room in the first place. Who even HIRED her?

 

“I don’t know,” he finally said.

 

“ _That’s worse_!” Rhiannon shouted back, and Lin began to contemplate the thickness of the theatre walls. “What was the whole point of getting close to her then?” She asked, and Lin almost choked on air.

 

“You think I’m _using_ her?” He said back, and she made a _why wouldn’t I_? face at him.

 

“Obviously,” she said. “You show every sign of liking her, including asking her out, then you sleep with her— again— and suddenly “oh, I’ll think about it” when she asks if you still want to go on a date with her? What _else_ am I meant to think?”

 

“I mean—”

 

“Not done,” she said. “If you don’t do this— and I know you want to— then her voice will haunt you. Every time she walk into a room, your eyes will follow her, and you will regret what you’ve done.” She took a step towards him. “Don’t miss out on a chance with a girl that you love because you’re an idiot.”

 

“How did you know I love her?” He whispered, and Rhiannon smiled with a corner of her mouth. “And, where those lyrics from a Fleetwood Mac song?”

 

“Lucky guess,” she said. “And yes. That’s where I got my name, too.” She turned on her heel and walked out, leaving Lin to think and run his fingers through his hair worriedly.

 

\----

 

He texted you twenty minutes later to say that he thought about it, and that there was nothing he wanted more than to go on a date with you.

 

When he went to pick you up the next night, sweaty palms and tulip bouquet in hand, he was met at the door by Rhiannon.

 

“Lin, hey, I promise I’m not replacing your date for the night,” she said. “Y/N is still getting ready.”

 

“Oh, okay,” he said, and stood awkwardly by the door. “Are you gonna overzealous Prom Mom us?”

 

“I really want to, but Y/N said no,” she said, and Lin smiled, chuckling a little bit.

 

“I give you express permission to do so,” he said. “Even if we have to hold Y/N hostage long enough,” he joked, and his expression dropped when he saw you.

 

 _Oh, I don’t deserve this_.

 

You were wearing a cute pink dress with lace along the waist and on the skirt, you hair pulled up into a bun that was definitely Rhiannon’s doing.

 

“Even if we have to do what?” you asked, leaning against the corner of the hallway.

 

“Take pictures of you two together, even if it’s against your will,” Rhiannon answered, hopping onto the kitchen counter. “Lin got you flowers.”

 

“Did you tell him that I like tulips?” You asked, and when Rhiannon didn’t answer, turned to Lin. “Did she tell you that I like tulips?” You smiled at him, and he was certain that he was going to die right here.

 

“She might’ve.” He handed them to you, and you set them on the counter, giving Rhiannon a silent cue to find a glass or something to put them in. “I also got you this.” He pulled your missing out of his pocket, and Rhiannon practically screeched. You took it from him, passing it to Rhiannon and telling her to throw it in the laundry after you left (you truly didn’t think you would ever be able to repay him).

 

“I will let you take _one_ picture of us,” you said, and Rhiannon jumped down from the counter, pulling her phone out. You took a very middle-school-Valentines-dance-date photo, and Rhiannon sent you on your way.

 

“Do I look alright?” You asked, once you had walked out of the apartment.

 

He held a hand out to you, and you took it. He intertwined your fingers with his, kissing the back of your hand. “Darling, you look perfect tonight.”


End file.
